Of Tattoos and Impalas
by obsessivelyfanaticgw09
Summary: You nod. Slowly. Cause there's the feeling again; the one that made you get that tattoo, buy the Impala earrings, or any one of the dozens of plaid button-up shirts you have at home. That tickle at your heart, the rush in your brain. . Jittery. Hyper. A strange kind of crushy mushy love feeling. This Sam guy. You just liked him. Not like you like like him…it was a brotherly love.


You sit down in the restaurant and sigh. There's the low mumble of people surrounding you in the dim mood lighting. An older couple sitting adjacent from you, a family of four ordering appetizers, three or four men at the bar. Wasn't the guy supposed to be here first? To, you know, pull your chair out for you and take your coat and comment on how he's never seen you in such a fancy dress before? You don't know…you haven't exactly been on enormous amount of these so called "dates". But Matt was a good guy. He was nerdy like you, which is always an upside…but then again he wasn't all around the perfect choice. Of course with the dry well of gentlemen callers in your life, who are you to say no? But he was late…would he show up at all? You guess Matt probably doesn't know much about dating either. You sink into the restaurant chair and take a glance at the clock. He's only five minutes late. Give him a chance. And sit up. Your mom is always telling you that slouching is not attractive.

Time passes. You glance up at the clock again. Ten minutes late now. God, why date? It sucks. You bite your lip. He stood you up. The nerdest guy in school. Stood _you _up.

You're starting to push bread crumbs around the table cloth at fifteen minutes. _Should I order anyway?_ You wonder. I mean, come on, getting out of the house is a hard journey, might as well make it worth your while. Then again…at home is where the wifi…

"Excuse me?" you're eyes dart up to meet a man's who is probably about ten years older than you, with long brown hair and a rather…attractive face.

"Yeah?"

"Do you mind if I ask you a question…just real quick?"

You hesitate for a moment and glace through the bread-aromaed air one last time for you date…_maybe he got lost on his way to the table? _Nope. Whatever. "Yeah sure." And you motion for the stranger to sit down. Who can argue? "Doesn't look like anyone else will be joining me tonight anyway."

The man smiles sympathetically and sits down. He also takes a moment to glance around the restaurant for some reason before leaning across the small table and mumbling in a low voice, "Are you a hunter?"

"Uh…" you glance around the room again, as if to hope that if something went terribly wrong, another person could come to your rescue. "A hunter? No…I..uh…don't trust myself with guns." You giggled, struggling to lighten his serious face. "Why?"

"Do you know what that is?" he answers, shifting his weight across the wobbly table to his left as he points at the tattoo half-visible beneath your strapless dress.

You eye the tattoo just below your right collar bone. The dark star surrounded by a circle of flames. "My tattoo? I don't know just a picture."

"It's…it's an anti-possession tattoo." the man answers, narrowing his eyes in confusion.

"A what?" Maybe you _had_ read something about that online…

"_Why_ did you get that?" you can hear a slight chuckle of disbelief in his voice.

"I don't know…I…just got it on my 18th birthday…compulsively, I guess. I just like it." You pull the rest of your dress back to reveal the full star. "I…kind of had dreams about it uh just…got it tattooed. Haha…are you one of those people who think that tattoo's gotta have all sorts of meaning?"

"Well uh…not really but…" The guy pulls back his own red plaid shirt covering his right shoulder. He has the exact same tattoo.

Your jaw drops open and your mouth dries. Haha…what? "Do…did you have dreams too?" you can feel your stomach doing flip flops and a smile crawl across your lips. Was it happiness? Excitement? Just to find someone else? Who _was_ this guy?

He just shakes his head slowly, in the same state of shock as you. "And…" he leans down, closer to you. Having the stranger so close to your face doesn't exactly make you feel any better. "What are these?"

"My earrings?" you reach up and fondle the little metal pieces like you do in class all day long. "I dunno. Cars. Just cars."

"What kind of car?" the stranger pries.

"Well you know…just old fashion cars. 1960's 70's. Bullitens, Corvairs, Impalas, Cadillacs…"

The man smiles now. A small smile that starts on one side of the mouth and twitches to its full length across his face. "I'm Sam." he says suddenly, reaching out his hand.

You fumble to find the correct hand to shake his back as you tell him your name.

"Follow me." Sam says and gets up from the table. The bell jingles as he leaves. You glance around for a second…well you can't just let him go. So you get up and follow him.

Outside in the parking lot you see why he was so curious about those earrings.

"Whoa!" you cry out suddenly. "Is this real?"

Sam pats the hood of the long black car with pride. "1967 Chevy Impala. It's my brothers. If I'm lucky he lets me drive it."

You can't help but let that big, stupid looking smile slide across your face. "Oh god awesome!" you cheer as you take a peek inside the windows. Wow the leather still looks so perfect. She is well loved and taken care of. "I've always kind of had an obsession with impalas! I never really told anyone though…you know…kind of a guyish fetish cars are. But this here." you run your hands along the cold metal. "This is freaking awesome."

"You've always had an obsession with impalas…specifically?" Sam asks, resting on the front bumper.

You walk the few steps to join him and dig your converse into the dirt in front of the parking spot he had taken. Cause like it or not, you were feeling awful comfortable with this stranger. "Yeah…I don't know why…I guess it's another one of those…subconscious things like…when you just really like something for no real reason."

"Not many people have stuff like that." Sam pointed out.

You shake your head. But that's all you've ever known. Your taste in music (rock? You don't even know why you like it…you hate the beats, you hate the singing, the meanings, the words? Hate it hate it…but you just…liked it.) for example. You shrug. Not knowing really what else to say.

You could practically hear Sam wondering if he should say it, "I think there's a reason behind all this."

You nod. Slowly. Cause there's the feeling again; the one that made you get that tattoo, buy the earrings, or any one of the dozens of plaid button-up shirts you have at home. That tickle at your heart, the rush in your brain. Synapses working extra hard. Jittery. Hyper. A strange kind of crushy mushy love feeling. This Sam guy. You just _liked_ him. Not like you like like him…it was a…_brotherly_ like. He was comfortable. Trustworthy. Smart. Tough. Safe. Can you ignore that kind of string attached to your chest, pulling you forward? "I've always sort of…wondered." you admitted.

You both sit in silence for a moment, the spring air rushing around you, the leaves rustling.

"I know you just met me." Sam begins, turning around to face you and leaning over to look you straight in the eyes. He was trying not to look eager and curious, you could tell, but it wasn't working. "But if you come with me, I think I know someone who can help you. Who can maybe figure all this out. Your tattoo, your weird obsessions. He could maybe solve this for you. How does that sound?"

Oh god…could you ignore that puppy dog look? The way he sounded so excited to solve the mystery you've just learned to live with as everyday life. The way he seemed to drop everything…just to help _you._ Could you ignore those big eyes on that big face, begging you to come with him? Could you ignore the feathers in your chest, the breeze seeming to push you into him, your arms wanting to reach out to him, that invisible force pulling you into the famous Impala. Then again…Tumblr waits.

"Fine." you say before the words even processed through your brain. "Fine yeah. Sounds like an adventure if you ask me."

He straightens his back to full length, and you're suddenly aware of the way he towers over you, "Jeese…ok lead the way moose."

He turns around for a moment and just looks at you, his expression frozen in a kind of smile of disbelief. He only nods and opens the passenger door for you.

And suddenly you're riding to a motel in a tall, attractive stranger's 50 year old car.

* * *

**Ahhh…so I'm new here…and apparently you guys have these things so often they have their own name…sisfic eh? Yay…Hope you like. I haven't written anything else for this yet so, leave me a review if you would like me to continue!**

**And let me know if you have anything or anyone specific you want to see!**


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